


A Cold Night in London

by cathouse_mary



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Gen, M/M, Shinigami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathouse_mary/pseuds/cathouse_mary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Night shift at London Dispatch can really frost your-</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cold Night in London

"Bugger."

Grell looked up at Eric’s pre-coffee complaint. "What’s got yours in a knot?"

"Weather in the human realm."

"What’s it say?"

"The Thames isn’t running red and there’s no locusts." Eric handed Grell the morning’s meteorology. "It’s freezing rain with high winds and below zero temperatures." 

"Shite." Grell read it, grimacing. "The Thames might freeze to black ice by morning. Everyone into cold weather gear and put ice cleats on your boots, because if one of you awkward bastards slips off a roof, I’m going to bloody well leave you there. And everyone puts on the woolies – including Eric."

~

"Ooh bugger!" Eric squeezed into the warm windbreak formed by three sets of chimney pots. "I’m about to freeze my ballocks off."

"Wasn’t aware you had them out to air, Eric." Grell was tucked up and keeping warm. "Told you to wear your woolies."

"Belt up, Red. The damned things itch." Eric fished a bag of sausage rolls out of his pea coat and waggled it. "Or no dinner for you."

"Bastard. Feed your loving Senior." Grell grinned. "Or I play with Alan."

"Pot calls the kettle bastard." Eric took out one of the crusty rolls and handed it over.   
  
~

The shift drew to a close and the sky cleared, leaving London bitterly cold.

"I swear you can hear the river freezing. Budge up in there." Alan wriggled between two chimney pots and peeled off his gloves. "I’m starving, so please tell me someone saved me a nibble?"

Eric handed over an ample bag. "Sausage rolls. Had to fend off the Red Menace – more bitey than a school of piranhas." 

"Slander." Grell pressed against Alan and ran a hand up his thigh. "Eric’s a brute and a cad. You should comfort me, Alan."

Eric scowled. "You. Hands. OFF. The partner."

~

"It’s your own fault for not wearing woolies." Alan tried not to smile because Eric looked so miserable. "I know they itch, but they keep you warm."

"Freezing. Come on, Alan." Eric’s teeth were chattering. "Please?"

Alan, courtesy of woolies and a chimney pot, had nice toasty bits. Eric, having shunned the woolies, swore he was getting frostbitten ballocks. "So you want me to keep the eggs warm, so to speak?"

Eric, when being pathetic, looked like a puppy left out in the rain. "Pleaaaase?"

Alan snickered, settling onto Eric’s lap and wriggling his warm rear into place. "There. Better?"


End file.
